


trying to find me here amidst the chaos

by ShyAudacity



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Fever, Gen, Hurt Jughead Jones, Kidnapping, Mentioned FP Jones II, Missing Scene, Panic, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Archie Andrews, Queer Themes, Rescue, Season/Series 03, Set After 3x08, Touching, all of them need therapy lbr, idk probably, riverdalerarepairgiftexchange2019, theres a lot of queer coding here and im not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: By the time Archie finds him, Jughead doesn't know what day it is.ORMel asked for: Jarchie and hurt/comfort, highschool storylines, fluff.





	trying to find me here amidst the chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melwritesthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melwritesthings/gifts).



> This is for the Riverdale Rare Pair and Non-Canon Gift Exchange! Mel! I hope you love your gift! 
> 
> Unbeta'd and title from Orpheus by Sara Bareilles.

By the time Archie finds him, Jughead doesn't know what day it is.

He thinks it could be Friday, maybe late Saturday if his math is off. He’s had a headache for so long that at this point he can’t remember if it started before or after he got here, wherever _here_ is.

Jughead knows at least this much: he’s in a house and he’s still in Riverdale somewhere. No one else knows that he’s here except for the people who put him here. Someone would have come for him by now if they did know.

The last thing he remembers clearly is the quarantine, or part of it anyway.

Jughead and his dad had been stopped on their way back into town, told to turn around, no one was getting in or out, no exceptions. In true Jughead form, he hadn’t listened. No more had the officer finished talking than had he taken off, sprinting into the woods, ignoring FP calling after him. All he had to do was outrun a couple of cops then sneak back into town through the forest, easy enough.

Or, at least, it sounded easy enough when he first thought of it. He hadn’t been running for more than a minute when he lost his footing- or maybe he’d been tripped- and Jughead had hit the woodsy ground at full force, earning himself a face full of dirt.

Groaning, he rolled over. Even in the dark, dim light of the moon, he could still make out the faces of two vaguely familiar looking Ghoulies and the one and only Hiram Lodge, all leering over him like a bunch of grim reapers come to collect their toll.

Jughead’s blood had run cold in a second. It feels like riot night all over again in all of the worst ways- but he doubts that anyone will come and find him this time.

“You’re a little far from home, Mr. Jones,” Hiram’s menacing voice echoed off the trees in the expansive woods. “Why don’t we find you someplace a little more comfortable, shall we?”

Everything goes foggy after that. Someone- one of the ghoulies, he presumes- hits him in the face so hard that it makes his head spin. The next thing he knows, Jughead is being dropped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes without an ounce of care. The dusty, wooden floor is unrelenting against his skin; his temple practically bounces against the panels beneath him, only increasing his dizziness.

“I’d sit tight if I were you, Jughead,” Hiram says as the two ghoulies drag Jughead into the corner. “This grand plan has been in the making for too long to be ruined by some teenaged martyr.” 

If he’d had the strength, Jughead would have flipped him off on his way out. Or spit on him, maybe. By the time he realized Hiram and his henchmen had left, they were long gone, leaving Jughead all alone in some one-room cabin with a single broken window in the middle of nowhere where no one would think to look.

It’s the perfect plan to make sure Jughead stays out of town, for good.

That _bastard_.

He’s curled up in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around his knees and his head pressed against the wall, trying to preserve whatever warmth that he has left. He’s been fading in and out of alertness since he arrived, each awake cycle he’s less lucid than the time before.

There’s a fever clouding his senses making him ache all over _and_ feel like his limbs are no longer attached all at the same time. Every time that he opens his eyes the furniture starts dancing in front of him.

It’s for that exact reason that Jughead is convinced the pounding turned _splintering_ of wood he hears coming from the other side of the room isn’t actually happening, tells himself that it’s all fake. It must be another one of the fever dreams that he keeps having- or a hallucination at least.

A rush of cold sends a shiver down his spine, a whine just barely leaving his lips. There’s a shuffling, stomping sound coming towards him; something, or _someone_ , touches his knee, winds their hand around his own frozen fingers.

"Jughead...” a familiar voice says, “Juggie, can you hear me?"

_Shit_ , Jughead thinks hazily, _even my fever dreams sound like Archie_ ; he can’t bring himself to open his eyes. He doesn’t want this to end- he doesn’t want to be alone again.

“C’mon, man, answer me. I need to know you’re okay.”

It takes all of the strength that he has left, but Jughead just barely curls a finger around fake Archie’s hand, hears him sigh in relief. It’s a miracle that he’s even been awake this long; his breathing is growing heavier by the second.

"That's good,” Archie says, “That's really good, Jughead. Can you stand?"

Jughead shakes his head or groans or anything to tell fake Archie _no, of course I can’t stand up, you goof._ He couldn’t even if he tried to. He loses his bearings again as Archie’s arms come around his back and under his knees, jostling him. A multitude of pained noises leave his mouth as Archie picks him up, carrying Jughead out of the small house.

_I’m surprised he can do this,_ Jughead thinks as his head bobs against not Archie’s shoulder, _we’re not as small as we used to be._

“My truck’s right over here, okay, Jug? …I’m gonna get you some help, I promise. Just stay with me a little longer.”

Without looking, Jughead already knows what fake Archie must look like right now. Like he’s trying to do everything he can to keep his panic from showing through and failing at it. Archie’s never had a much of a poker face, it’s part of why everyone likes him so much; he’s so easy to read. Never was any good at keeping secrets.

He must blackout for at least a minute because the next thing Jughead knows there’s hot air blowing all around him, doing nothing to warm him up _or_ help his insufferable fever. He trembles mercilessly in the front seat of not Archie’s car, still curled into himself.

Jughead still hasn’t opened his eyes, he’s too afraid to find out what will happen when he does.

Archie is talking somewhere next to him, telling him _we’re almost there just a few more minutes Jughead, don’t give up on me yet_. In a moment of clarity, he realizes that Archie isn’t touching him anymore and all of the panic sensors start going off in his brain. He whines audibly, blindly moving his hand around until it finds Archie’s again; Archie squeezes Jughead’s hand right back and just like that he’s out again, all of his senses fading away from him for good.

 

 

 

His mom is there when he comes to, Jughead knows at least that much. He can hear her talking to someone over his head; she’s moving her fingers through the greasy hair behind his ear, scratching lightly at his scalp. Jughead wonders how the hell she made it to Riverdale so quick, then remembers that he still doesn’t know what day it is.

“It’s one hell of a miracle that you found him, kid,” Gladys says. “I really mean that. I thought he was done for.”

“I’m just glad that I drove by when I did,” Archie replies, somewhat gruff. “I don’t think I would have found him if I hadn’t seen the house.”

Jughead’s eyes fly open for the first time in only god knows how long at the sound of his friend’s voice and he finds himself staring at the ceiling, a blank, white slate in front of him. Almost instantly, his hands are grasping at the sheets on his hospital bed, trying to find Archie; he’d sit up if he thought he could manage it without blacking out again.

He rasps, “Arch- Archie.”

A warm hand closes around his own and there’s a screech of a chair against the linoleum floor. Archie moves into his line of sight just as Jughead is using both of his own hands to pull Archie’s closer to his chest, wanting him as close as possible. He unravels Archie’s hand until he can feel the tips of each of his fingers pressing into his skin.

Archie uses his own free hand to brush Jughead’s messy, dark hair away from his forehead. "Hey, _hey_ , Jughead. It’s okay, you’re alright.”

“Y-you- you’re not-.”

Archie shakes his head, mustering up a smile. “I'm here, big guy. I'm not leaving."

That might just be the best thing Jughead has heard in his whole damn life.

Later, after Jughead’s a bit more coherent and once he’s muttered his way through an explanation about Hiram, himself and Archie are talking- or trying to, at least. Jughead keeps dozing off every few minutes. His fever has yet to break, keeps making him feel like he’s both suffocating and cooking inside of his own skin. At least he’s not freezing anymore.  

Archie keeps his hand on the top of Jughead’s head as they talk, leaning in close; neither one of them really wants to be alone right now.

“You really freaked me out for a minute there, Jug.” 

“Honestly, I barely remember any of it. You might as well have been talking to a drunken two year old.”

Archie rolls his eyes, face hardening after a brief laugh. “I mean it, dude. You weren’t talking or looking at me… kind of thought that you were checking out on me.”

Jughead drops his gaze, pulling at a fraying thread on his blanket.

“Thought it wasn’t real,” he mutters, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I was worried that you’d leave if I looked… didn’t want you to be gone again.”

“I know,” Archie says, softly, “I missed you, too.”

“Do you know… how long was I-.”

“Four days. You were in there for four days. It’s a miracle that your organs didn’t start shutting down. I came back as soon as your dad called. I didn’t like the idea of you being left all alone somewhere in the world. I never could leave you alone for very long, huh?”

_How ironic,_ Jughead thinks, _you walk off into the middle of the woods to get out of town for a while and me getting stuck in the woods is what brings you back._

“How’d you even know I was in there?”

“I saw your hat, on the ground, outside. I don’t know anybody else who goes walking around with a beanie on all the time.”

Jughead feels a chuckle bubble in his throat and falls into a fit of giggles the more he thinks about what Archie’s said. He got saved all because of some stupid hat.

“Jug? What’s so funny?”

He tries to speak through wheezy laughter. “I didn’t- didn’t ev’n realize _it came off.”_

Pretty soon, Archie is joining in on the laughter, both of them brought to tears by the sheer irony of the whole situation. Even when Gladys comes back into the room, neither one of them can compose themselves enough to explain what the hell is so funny, so they don’t even try. They just let the feeling work its way out of their systems then wipe the tears away when it’s over.

And much, much later, once Jughead’s fever has finally broken, the two boys finally get some decent sleep. Archie doesn’t leave his side even once. When he does manage to drift off, he’s curled over the side of the hospital bed with his head pressed against Jughead’s hip.

It goes unsaid, but both of them are all kinds of relieved to finally be home.

**Author's Note:**

> There's so much queer coding in this it's ridiculous and I love it. PS, if you wanna hear the playlist that inspired this fic you can find it on my tumblr (archieandrewsprotectionsquad).
> 
> Thanks for reading my fic! Comments/Kudos are greatly appreciated and encouraged. Have a great day!


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